Time and Space, Collapse
by Star Rhapsody
Summary: [AU] He didn't care how many of her lifetimes it took, he would keep finding her. And he would have her. She was his, plain and simple. But at some point, the cycle has to break. It's only a matter of when. [JarethSarah] A history of obsession and its ill-fated consequences. [Dark]
1. Evolution

AN: Mega short intro/prologue, to give a taste. First chapter will follow soon. This fic will really just be an experiment of sorts for my own free time, so we'll see how it goes! Obviously, my other stories are pretty much done and dead. Fanfiction is pretty hard to keep up with now that I'm pretty much a full-fledged adult...or so I'm told. In any case, it's hard to stay away from and I always find myself coming back, like visiting an old friend.

Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth.

 **Time and Space, Collapse**

 **Prologue**

 **Evolution**

The smoke furls upward into the dreary New England sky. It pulls and coils and stretches itself thin before seemingly evaporating into nothingness. The process starts itself over as another drag is pulled from the cigarette held loosely between slender, long fingers.

Jareth contemplates the wisps of smoke, noticing how they almost seem to dance in the air, tantalizingly so. If he stares long enough, he can almost see tendrils of dark brown hair dancing, seducing him as they move.

And if he stares longer yet, he will lose himself in emerald eyes that aren't there.

But, Jareth doesn't have to rely on his imagination. All he has to do is turn his glance sideways, across the street, and there she is.

She appears young, carefree, so untouched by the world and all its troubles. Her jewel-toned eyes he knows are there are currently hidden as she laughs with mirth at something the young man seated across from her must have said.

She is younger than he remembers her, this time around. It isn't that he was ever unaware of her youth, but in times like these, little snippets that seem bewilderingly intimate despite their public setting, she suddenly seems so much more youthful. There is no touch of sadness, no air of hidden mysteries.

It is foreign to see her like this, but in a way, it is all the more intriguing.

He has been following her for an eternity, and even to this day, she is still surprising him, catching him off guard.

Hiding his face behind a newspaper, his eyes rove the black and white text with little interest.

He contemplates what it would be like to rush over to her, to grab her in his arms, to feel like fate had finally been on his side, to take her then and there, wildly.

Jareth nearly laughs, recalling a simpler time...the first time. The first time they ever met, the first time they encountered each other and began this unending cycle. Fate was determined to repeat itself, Jareth reckons.

And each time Jareth finds her in the next life, she is always a little more different. It is subtle, much like the way the seasons gradually fade into another, before becoming something else entirely. Her hair, once a dark chocolate, has lightened somewhat. Her eyes, once a murky hazel, have crystallized into the mesmerizing emerald they are now. Some lifetimes, her hair is neat and straight as a pin, others it is wild and windswept.

Like a force of nature herself, Sarah is always evolving.

Suddenly, the girl across the street seems to have taken note of the unearthly being sitting at the patio table and chairs, smoking his cigarette with ease.

Jareth makes eye contact with her, and her lips part slightly, as if in recognition.

His heart is electrified, his mind reeling back to the past, to the beginning.

 _In which a devil encounters a young girl…_


	2. Stories

AN: Here is chapter one, up and running. Please let me know your thoughts!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth.

 **Time and Space, Collapse**

 **Chapter One**

 **Stories**

Flames flickered on their torches, lining the empty stone hallway. A musty smell overtook Sarah's nostrils as she forged on ahead. Her ears could pick up the sound of water dripping somewhere nearby. If she strained harder, she was certain she could hear the pitter-patter of small rodents scurrying about in the distance.

The catacombs under her family's castle were long forgotten. Sarah wouldn't have been surprised if it had been decades since people had been down here.

Save for Sarah, of course.

The catacombs had become her refuge over the last few months. A place where she could hide and be forgotten.

Sarah picked up her skirts as she stepped over a few puddles, grimacing at the sound her booted foot made as it squelched in what appeared to be sludge of some sort.

She descended another staircase, moving herself further downward, into the belly of the castle's underground. It was cold, gloomy, and somewhat unsettling, but for some reason, Sarah found herself feeling at peace in this dungeon-like setting.

And above all, it was intriguing.

Sarah grabbed a torch hanging by the staircase and moved forward, illuminating the room with flickering shadows. The flames spit and danced before settling down in a calm, orange glow.

Sarah walked over to two empty torches that were on either side of a large statue. Lending fire to each torch, Sarah went over and placed the torch back at its post on the stairwell, having served its purpose.

As Sarah approached the statue, she studied its features as she had always done when down here. It was the figure of a man, but an inhuman one. Despite being made out of stone, an unearthly quality seemed to lie dormant. His face was angular, though the stone had been chipped here and there, suggesting he had stood sentry over the catacombs for years...perhaps centuries.

He was posed with his right hand placed just below his chest, as if he were about to bow, while his left arm was held behind his back. A pendant hung low around his neck, the most peculiar of shapes. Sarah skimmed her hands upon it, almost wondering, perhaps hoping, she would feel a thrum of life. But nothing happened.

Gazing upward, Sarah studied the features of the statue. An impassive stare. Eyes made of stone, unmoving and unseeing. His lips were pulled in a thin line, neither smiling nor frowning.

Sarah knew he was not human. Reaching her fingers up slowly, she dusted off his cheek, wondering why he remained underground, forgotten.

She had once asked about this statue, asked about who he was. Her parents had only scowled and told her not to bother thinking of such things and to stay out of the catacombs. That he was a relic of past generations, some fay deity once revered, but now nearly blasphemous to consider.

Sarah herself wasn't sure what to believe, but it was interesting nonetheless. Part of her wished he was real. That there was something magical...fantastical, in this dreary society.

But it seemed life didn't work that way. Not for Sarah.

No, she was expected to be raised as a purebred woman of high standing and good class. She was a princess after all, despite any misgivings she had about the position. Furthermore, as a princess, she was expected to be wed off to some noble fool or other. She had argued and pleaded and thrown tantrums in desperation against her parents, begging them to reconsider such notions. Of course they had tuned her out, simply stating she knew her responsibilities.

Sarah's eyes narrowed upon recalling the latest blowout.

They had already been discussing potential suitors, families that would best suited for their royal status. At sixteen, Sarah thought like things were moving far too quickly. She still felt like a child in some respects. Her mother had of course argued that when she was her age, she was nearly ready to have a child.

"Well I'm not…" Sarah whispered to no one, curling her hands up into fists by her sides. She was no proper lady or princess. At least, not right now.

Staring up at the statue, Sarah wondered what previous generations in her family were like. Clearly they were different, perhaps even frowned upon, for having idols such as the fay standing before her. They seemed wilder, freer...open to different possibilities, ones that this conservative high society could not fathom.

Sarah sighed before trotting off to retrieve the torch by the stairs. She then returned to the statue's side, snuffing out the two torches beside it.

Pulling back slowly, Sarah gazed up at the statue's eyes.

"I'd like to think you're real…" she whispered softly, her voice barely echoing.

Closing her pale hazel eyes, Sarah turned on her heel and picked up her skirts before scampering up the stone stairs.

The statue stood silently, frozen in time as it always had been.

* * *

"My Lady!" A voice called from down the hallway.

Sarah's shoulders hunched up, her eyes closing in defeat.

She had been caught sneaking out of the catacombs.

"My Lady!" A young woman approached, stopping to catch her breath as she neared Sarah.

"Hello, Rose," Sarah smiled, attempting to look demure and unfazed. It was her handmaid, Rose. She was not much older than Sarah herself, perhaps in her twenties. She was rather plain but had a sweet disposition. If anything, Sarah thought she would've made a better princess. She had honey-colored hair and soft brown eyes. Her voice sounded like bells tinkling when she laughed.

Her only flaw was being born into a lower class.

"My Lady, you know you're not supposed to go down to the catacombs. Your Lord father and Lady mother have expressly forbidden it," she hissed conspiratorially.

Sarah dropped the facade and groaned. "Rose, it's not that big of a deal!" She then bit her lip, eyes pleading. "...you won't tell them, right?" She clasped her hands together and arched a brow, hoping Rose would take pity on her, yet again.

Rose sighed upward and her bangs flopped against her forehead as she folded her arms. "Of course I won't...but I can't keep turning a blind eye, my Lady. You know that. _Furthermore_ , your Lord father and Lady mother are going to start noticing your lack of appearances to places you most certainly should be appearing. You'll dishonor them most terribly if a noble family's son is slighted."

Sarah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Rose could get melodramatic and sanctimonious, perhaps another one of her few but present flaws.

"I'll be sure to remember that, Rose," Sarah smiled, placating her handmaid.

Rose gave a _hrumph!_ of acknowledgment before turning her gaze toward the now-closed passageway to the catacombs.

"You really shouldn't go down there, my Lady," Rose admonished softly.

Sarah followed Rose's gaze before whirling around back on her.

"Do you know about the statue down there?"

Rose frowned, before returning Sarah's stare. "It isn't anything you should worry about, my Lady," Rose smiled. "It's been in the family for years, or so that's what I've heard. My family has served yours for generations as you know, and I'm sure it's just another important relic."

"They hate it," Sarah interrupted. "If they hate it, why do they keep it? Relic or not."

Rose bit her lip. "I can't say for sure, my Lady. But I'm sure your Lord father and Lady mother have their reasons. Best not to question them. Come on," Rose moved to shuffle Sarah along.

"Rose," Sarah pulled back, a frown setting on her features. "You know something. Tell me."

"M-My Lady!" Rose stammered, but Sarah was having none of it.

"Tell me, Rose! You are _my_ handmaid…" Sarah didn't like to whip out such weapons, but she knew Rose held loyalty to her above anyone else.

Rose lowered her eyes.

"It's not that they haven't tried…" she finally began. "It's impossibly heavy, even for stone. And attempts to move it from the castle have led to strange misfortunes...death in some cases. I don't know if it's true...but it appears your Lord father and Lady mother would rather not befall some curse, if that's what's to be believed."

Sarah raised a brow, bemused.

It was just a stone statue. What more could it do beyond…exist?

Rose saw the expression on Sarah's face and waved her hand. "It's not something to be concerned with, my Lady. Really. Just old folklore and superstition."

Sarah's eyes narrowed.

"Why do I feel like you're lying to me, Rose?" Rose remained silent. "You know, I thought you were different. I thought you actually had some iota of respect for me. Turns out you're just like my father and mother. All of you expect me to stay quiet and just follow along, blindly. I'm sick of it!" Sarah lashed, feeling her pent up rage from earlier clawing to the surface.

Rose stayed still, staring past Sarah.

Finally, she exhaled before gripping Sarah's hands firmly in her own.

"Fine, my Lady. You aren't leaving me much choice." Checking over her shoulder and down both ends of the corridor, Rose began pulling Sarah along in the direction of her room.

"What are you doing? What's going on?" Sarah struggled to keep up with Rose's brisk pace.

Rose refused to answer her questions and opted to quicken her speed.

When they reached Rose's room, she bolted the door shut behind them. Sarah stared with bewilderment, wondering what had gotten Rose so aggravated all of a sudden.

Rose shuffled past, rummaging around her meager bookcase. It held a few thick tomes, mostly volumes her family had owned. Pulling out a few from their spots on the shelf, Rose groped through the dust before finding what she was looking for.

Hidden behind the thicker volumes, a small, red, leatherbound book was produced in Rose's triumphant hands.

Dusting the cover off, she turned and extended it to Sarah.

Sarah stared at it dumbly, before slowly reaching out to grasp it.

"My grandmother had found it, here in the castle, many years ago. She had entrusted it to me before she passed."

Sarah stared at the faded black letters.

 _The Labyrinth_.

"It's a story based on the old folklore about the Goblin King, the devourer of children and dreams...or so, that's what some people say," Rose laughed unsurely. "The book talks about how upon being summoned by the magic words, the Goblin King appears, taking away your troubles...but for a price. I've always taken it to be a cautionary tale," she added.

Sarah flipped through the old pages with care, noting that the text was in a state of disrepair.

Rose looked at the book with a wistful gaze before addressing Sarah once more.

"I think you should hold onto it, my Lady. But keep it hidden. It was supposed to be burned and destroyed with the statue. My grandmother happened to pocket it before anything could happen."

"Why would this be destroyed?" Sarah questioned. "It's merely a book...a story."

Rose smiled softly. "Perhaps there are those that would still believe in the power of words."

Sarah looked up at Rose.

"And do you believe in these stories? Do you truly believe the statue down there…the Goblin King, could be brought to life by the words from this book?"

Sarah's throat was dry and she licked her lips, waiting in anticipation for what Rose would share.

"I couldn't tell you with complete certainty, my Lady," Rose began, wringing her skirts nervously in her hands. "But I suppose I'd rather not be the one to find out such things, just in case there is a chance, however small."

Sensing Sarah's disbelief and confusion, Rose ushered her out of the room.

"Keep it hidden, my Lady. Tell no one of its existence. And for goodness sake, stay out of the catacombs!"

Sarah nodded mutely before walking off, tucking the mysterious little book into her long sleeves.

A feeling of trepidation took ahold of her.

* * *

Hours later and Sarah had finally managed to find herself alone in her room. At this point, no maids would be stopping by and her parents had long retired to their own chambers for the evening.

Rushing over to the trunk that sat at the foot of her bed, Sarah flung it open and shoved around her mess of items, ranging from books, to old dresses and hairpins.

Finally, the red book emerged and Sarah eagerly climbed atop her bed, nestling in against the soft covers.

Glancing at the candle, Sarah found she was on borrowed time to read it front to back.

Sarah flipped the book open and began to read the words with a renewed sense of excitement. For once, it felt like she was finally the one who was receiving answers that no one else had. Whether there was truth or not to Rose's words about this tale, she had given her a gift. A gift of knowledge and awareness.

And so Sarah read through the book, enveloped the story of the labyrinth.

As Sarah made her way through the story, she realized there was more to it than Rose let on.

The Goblin King didn't seem evil...rather an unearthly force that only did as the girl in the story asked. He stole a child that had been asked to be taken.

 _But what no one knew was that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl_ …

He did what he did out of love. And that, Sarah scoffed internally, was more than what her own parents had ever done for her. No marriage alliances were made out of love for Sarah, but love for their own wealth and status. She felt like a fool, a pawn to be played any which way they desired.

Though the story revealed that even the Goblin King's love was not enough for the young girl. She had wished her brother away, but she had fought to win him back, to correct her mistakes.

 _...through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered_.

Sarah closed the book with half-lidded eyes. Perhaps she was missing some part of the story.

Why the young girl would go through so many obstacles to put herself back in the position she started, miserable and treated like a slave, Sarah couldn't understand. At this point, she would've loved to be anywhere else. Anywhere but trapped in this suffocating place.

Throwing her covers back, Sarah slid out of bed and returned the book to its hiding place.

Sarah then stood up and stretched her body, balancing on only her toes as she raised her arms up above her head and let out a yawn. She figured at this point it was merely a story and nothing more. Rose seemed to have more blind faith in it, at least, more than Sarah cared to believe.

Extinguishing the last of her candle's meager flames, Sarah grabbed her pillow and nestled her head on it, hands resting gently atop it next to her now slumbering face.

As she drifted off, Sarah sleepily murmured, "I wish the Goblin King would take me away from this castle…"

* * *

Deep in the bowels of the earth, in a whole new world, a figure lazily opened two mismatched, pale blue eyes.

For the first time in centuries, he had been called upon.


End file.
